


I Want To Know What Love Is

by castiel_ambrose



Series: French Fryes 1980's Soundtrack 'Verse [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, First Meetings, Implied/Referenced Cheating, It's the 80s, M/M, Smoking, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, from roth to jacob, past Jacob/Roth, sort of??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26637841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiel_ambrose/pseuds/castiel_ambrose
Summary: Even in the dim fire of the small flame, Jacob could make out compassion, however subtle, and a sense of sympathy. The other's eyes met Jacob's, and Jacob pulled away before the stranger could examine him in turn, taking a few puffs."Thanks." he mumbled and accepted the lighter back."You're welcome." The man leaned against the wall again. "I'm Arno. Arno Dorian.""Jacob. Jacob Frye." He conceded and barely caught the smallest, softest smile flit across the other's lips before it was gone.
Relationships: Arno Dorian/Jacob Frye, Jacob Frye/Maxwell Roth
Series: French Fryes 1980's Soundtrack 'Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937935
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	I Want To Know What Love Is

**Author's Note:**

> tw for not a nice depiction of maxwell roth, if you like him

Jacob threw the half-done cigarette to the side, the rock and roll still audible from outside the club where he was. He leaned against the wall, feeling the damp stone hitting his back and slowly but surely hitting his back and soaking through his thin coat. It had stopped raining a while before, but the sidewalk's pavement and alley still glistened with water. The many cracks were illuminated by hazy street lights, sending warped images through the puddles.

He felt as though he wanted to cry, for his tears to stain the ground with just as much water as the downpour had left. His father would be furious with him, but he had always considered Jacob more of a weak link or a defect in the process between his children. It was easy to brush it off sometimes, but… Not now. Not when his heart felt like it was ripped out of his chest.

Fuck his father, fuck Roth, _fuck them_ -

His fist hit the wall behind him, hard, and the pain brought some clarity and grim satisfaction, face twisting into a sardonic smile.

"Hey."

A voice, soft but unsure, made itself known as the owner leaned against the wall next to him. It was another man around his age, maybe a bit older, with long brown hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, and hazel eyes that watched him intently. A street lamp nearby illuminated him to look like some fucked up angel. That is, if angels wore dress pants and a blue coat, with a red scarf that looked much too fluffy for the outfit and the late September weather. Quickly Jacob toughened up and discreetly sniffed, turning away to hide his face.

"You need a light?" He cleared this throat, hand in one pocket fumbling for another cigarette and the other searching for a lighter.

"I'm trying to quit." The stranger admitted, seemingly undeterred by the other's attempts at whatever normalcy could be classified as. Mentally, Jacob hated him for a second. Then, "Are you alright?"

"Oh, yeah. Some jack arses at the bar. Decided they were all macho and wanted to pick a fight."

"And now you're out here trying to light up. You hurt?"

Again, a flash of hate. He couldn't help it as he clenched the butt of the cigarette between his teeth a bit too tightly, and all but growled, "Fuck does it matter to you, anyway? You my guardian angel or something?"

"Do you need one? Here…" He took the lighter from Jacob's trembling hands and clicked it on after a few tries. Jacob's eyes flicked over to take in the other man as he leaned in for the light. His face didn't betray much, looking too cool to get a read on him, but it was all in his eyes. Even in the dim fire of the small flame, Jacob could make out compassion, however subtle, and a sense of sympathy. The other’s eyes met Jacob's, and Jacob pulled away before the stranger could examine him in turn, taking a few puffs.

"Thanks." he mumbled and accepted the lighter back.

"You're welcome." The man leaned against the wall again. "I'm Arno. Arno Dorian." 

"Jacob. Jacob Frye." He conceded and barely caught the smallest, softest smile flit across the other's lips before it was gone. "Never seen you around these parts. You come to The Rookery often?"

"And hear some shitty Sex Pistols covers by drunk Uni kids? No, thanks."

An ugly cross between a laugh and a snort escaped Jacob, and he once again caught the smallest smile from the other man. This time, it stayed a bit longer. "Tuesdays are their best nights. First drinks are half off. And their fish is pretty good."

"Sounds like fun." Arno hummed. The music inside switched to something slower, the smooth tenor of a glam metal singer now a lot clearer than before. He swallowed around a lump in his throat as the song's romantic meaning became clear; or, as romantic as you could get. It was -- is -- one of his favorites, even if he didn't want to admit it. Arno must have noticed the way he stiffened, "So. What leads you out into the night on a, quite frankly, awesome night without fish or half-off drinks?"

"It matters to you? You're some kind of therapist?"

"Just… very nosey. I've been told it's my defining flaw."

"Your flaw is walking up to random strangers. Could've had a butcher knife with me."

"That was a thought I had, yes. Look… If you want me to go, I'll go. But if you need help, or… Maybe I can give it. I don't exactly feel right leaving you alone right now."

Jacob knew he had to look like an idiot, mouth gaping just slightly. His lighted cigarette was still in between his fingers, ash almost reaching his skin where he had it. What the fuck kind of man would just waltz up to some random man near midnight, help him light up, and then stand there with earnest puppy-dog eyes and listen to a sob story? Who was like that, really?

Maybe it was Jacob's own fault that he ended up believing him, but… It was hard not to. Perhaps he needed it.

"Just my- well, now my ex."

"Did she do something?"

"Not she." Jacob took another drag, something to distract himself, and braced himself for a laugh, or a rejection. Maybe even harsh words. But when he dared a look at Arno, there was only sympathy, no judgment. He said nothing, obviously silently intending for Jacob to continue, so he moved on. "Caught him kissing some fucking blonde on against the wall when I came back from the loo. I pulled him off and took him out back, but- But he got to me first before we were fully out." He inhaled, shakily, trying to block out everything. The memory of Roth's harsh words, his anger, and the way he took his time humiliating Jacob in a way too similar to his father. How he could barely breathe as he pushed him away and hurried out the door.

"I'm sorry." It was all Arno said, but he said it with an ocean of emotion and sincerity, the kind Jacob hadn't heard in a long time… If ever.

"Not like you did anything. You just showed up."

"I can feel some sympathy, can't I? I'm not that heartless."

"And what are you?"

"A friend." He said with finality after some consideration. "You look like you could use one."

God help him, maybe Jacob could.

"Look, there's a diner nearby open for another few hours. Do you want some actual food?" Arno suggested, just a bit of hesitation poking through; hesitation he would be turned down. "If you don't want-"

"I do." Jacob nodded quickly, taking one last drag of his almost done smoke before tossing it down and smashing it flat under his boot. "How far away?"

"Just a few blocks." Arno pushed himself off the wall and walked a bit in the diner's direction before turning to Jacob again. "You coming?"

The light caught Arno again as he turned, and once again, it illuminated him with some weird halo surrounding his head. Some fucking guardian angel. Without another word, Jacob nodded and followed him, keeping a comfortable pace with the man.

**Author's Note:**

> Probably going to be a series? As if I don't have enough of them starting, haha. 
> 
> Title from the song of the same name by Foreigner. If you want, I'm happy to take additional ideas for 80s songs you'd like to see worked into fics, related or otherwise!
> 
> Let me know what you thought! Get added on a taglist or check out my other fics/follow me on my tumblr[tumblr](https://straight-into-the-animus.tumblr.com/), and let me know what you think! I'm always accepting requests! Safety and peace!


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